


If Food be the Music of Love

by dandelionway



Series: The Art of the Steal [3]
Category: Supernatural
Genre: Anal Sex, Crack, Fluff, Fluff and Crack, Food Kink, Food Sex, Gay Sex, Love Confessions, M/M, Milk, Rimming, eh, sort of, you'll see - Freeform
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-06-23
Updated: 2015-06-23
Packaged: 2018-04-05 17:52:54
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,264
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4189347
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/dandelionway/pseuds/dandelionway
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>After 2 glorious rounds of hot sex, Castiel makes a delicious breakfast for himself and Dean. He finally realizes the connection between food and love. Sex ensues.</p><p>milk may or may not be a euphemism for cum you’ll never know ~*~*~woooo~*~*~</p>
            </blockquote>





	If Food be the Music of Love

**Author's Note:**

> i feel like these get weirder and weirder??????? also, the title is from the song "If Music be the Food of Love" but like, it's about food soooo i had to change it

Castiel and Dean wake up again later that morning after the second round of fabulous sex, both feeling pleasantly sore and for Castiel, more relaxed than he has been in years. Castiel isn’t too worried about the awkward morning after thing so much anymore, mostly because this is sort of the second morning, and partly because he’s pretty sure Dean could never be awkward or anything but perfect.

Castiel would be very content to just lay in Dean’s bed all day, but his stomach is rumbling and Dean is whining about how he’s dying of hunger and he wants Castiel to make breakfast. Castiel thinks that normally, the host is supposed to make the food???? But whatever, Dean is hot. So he rolls out of the bed, taking the big, white comforter with him and off of Dean. He stumbles through the apartment until he finds the kitchen, small and slightly cramped space.

It occurs to him while he’s searching through all of the cabinets and drawers that is might not be so polite to do so, but Dean is hungry and so is Castiel, and Dean doesn’t seem to be getting his ass out of bed anytime soon, so. Castiel finds plenty of food to cook with, but then he can’t really cook, so he settles on some fruitloops and 2% milk. The bowls are oddly difficult to find—they end up being in the cabinet under the silverware drawer—and by the time he finds them, Dean is whining Castiel’s name and telling him to come back to bed, but with food this time. Castiel barely suppresses his eye roll, because Dean is such a baby. A hot, sexy, golden baby. Except, ew, never mind.

Balancing the cereal bowls in each hand, Castiel walks excruciatingly slow so they won’t spill. Dean’s whining has diminished into lazy groaning by the time he walks through the bedroom door, but upon seeing Castiel he brightens considerably. Suddenly, Dean is an excited toddler, bouncing on the bed and gesturing wildly for Castiel to walk faster. Castiel laughs despite himself, and does walk faster, even if it means spilling a little milk on his shirt.

Dean and Castiel sit side by side, leaning on the headboard, eating their cereal silently. Dean keeps poking Castiel’s side. It’s annoying. Castiel pretends not to notice, because he’s eating his cereal thank you very much. But he’s on his last few spoonfuls and he’d REALLY like to eat them in a quiet bliss, and Dean is making that extremely difficult. So, with little thought, Castiel pokes Dean, hard, right below his ribs. Except, he must have released a little but too much of his frustration, because Dean’s arms fly up, effectively throwing his bowl into his own face.

Castiel stares, frozen, watching the milk and little o’s of joy drip down Dean’s cheeks. Dean’s expression is blank, and Castiel has never been this scared in his entire life. Except for that time when he was almost robbed. Um, not the time when _Dean_ almost robbed him, a different time. (Why has there been two times??????)

Anyways, Dean is looking pretty scary. Like, not mean-faced-clenched-hands-scary, but stoic-and-intimidatingly-calm-but-still-super-handsome-scary. Castiel doesn’t know how long he’s been staring at Dean while Dean has been staring solemnly in the distance, but it’s been enough time that Castiel’s legs are beginning to fall asleep, and the milk looks like it might be drying a bit. And then Dean’s head is turning, slowly, and Castiel can practically hear the dramatic old door squeaky noise.

Hie eyes are now boring into Castiel’s.

“Lick,” he says.

Castiel blinks. “Pardon?”

“You heard me, _Castiel.”_ Castiel gulps. He leans forward slightly, and then more, and more, and more until his mouth is only centimeters away from Dean’s cheek. Castiel parts his lips and extends his tongue. All right, there’s no need to be afraid. He can just pretend the milk is from his own bowl! Nothing gross or weird about that. Castiel believes he has himself convinced, however he is proved wrong when he feels the rough textures of skin and stubble as well as the taste of sugary milk on his tongue. It is the filthiest thing he ever done in his life.

Castiel licks both of Dean’s cheeks like a lollipop, he licks his forehead, and he doesn’t really want to lick Dean’s nose, so he waits until the little drops drip off the tip, and then he catches them as the fall. Castiel makes his way down Dean’s throat, where he’s thankful that the stubble is becoming scarce. He licks Dean’s collarbone, and okay, this is getting _real_ nice.

As he continues to lick at Dean’s collarbone, he heaves a leg over Dean’s lap, straddling him. Dean makes a small, precious noise, like a baby penguin.

“Um, Cas? Did you just call me a penguin?” Castiel’s head snaps up to look at Dean. Oh, fuckity foo. He said that aloud.

“Aaaaaahhhhhhhhh, EEEEEEMMMMMM, weeeeeeeeellllllll,” Castiel is stalling, he knows. He quickly shoves his hand down to Dean’s crotch, which is thankfully still unclothed. Dean seems to forget his previous question, which Castiel sends a loving thanksbro message to god almighty for, and bucks his hips up into Castiel’s hand, and Castiel goes back to his job of licking Dean’s fantabulous 2% skin.

Castiel pretty much becomes hard untouched which, like, at this point he isn’t even surprised because the very thought of dean sends arousal signals to his brain (um, and dick) or something.

When Castiel’s dick becomes so hard that he can’t not touch it anymore, he lifts off of Dean to take his boxers off. He rubs his cock against Dean’s equally hard one, and he’s beginning to think that this is one of his new favorite pastimes, just rubbing their hot, hard lengths up and down each other. His head rolls back, his eyes sliding closed.

“Mmmmmmmmm Deeeeeaaaannn,” Castiel whines, because he can’t help it.

Dean smiles at him in reply. “You ready for round three? You wanna fuck me again, baby?” Castiel moans loudly at the thought; fucking Dean was probably the best experience of his life, followed very closely by Dean fucking him. Sex has always been good, but it has never been _this_ good. Dean apparently takes Castiel’s moaning as an affirmative, because in 4 seconds flat Castiel’s eyes are parallel with all of Dean’s goodies.

“Lick,” Dean says for the second time, but Castiel is much more willing this time. He licks from the tip of Dean’s cock down the underside, all the way to his perineum. He nudges his tongue there for a bit, which already has Dean gasping and clinging to the sheets.

“You like that, Dean? You want more?” Castiel says with as much seduction as he can muster. Dean, his eyes closed, nods furiously and widens his legs further. Castiel smirks, and without warning, starts lapping his tongue at Dean’s hole. Dean lets out a pleased, strangled huff, and bites his lip, which is so fucking cute that Castiel’s dick actually spurts out some precome. This bed is so gross right now.

He licks around Dean’s hole, spiraling until he gets to the middle, and then he begins to wiggle the tip into his opening. Dean is still a little open from their last round, but not nearly enough. After coaxing the little ring of muscle to relax, Castiel plunges his whole tongue in. Dean arches his back impossibly high off of the bed, emitting a high pitched squeal that almost makes Castiel laughs, but he refrains. He twirls his tongue inside of Dean, loving the little breathy sounds coming from the back of his throat.

When he feels Dean can take it, Castiel slides his pointer finger along in with his tongue—kind of an uncomfortable position for him, he’ll admit, but Dean seems to like it, if his long stream of yesyesyesyesgodyescastielfuckmefuckYES is anything to go by,

When he adds a second finger he takes his tongue out because it’s hard to fit his chin around his hand, and also he’d really like to watch Dean’s face. He’s got this faint smile, and his eyes are still closed, and his tongue comes out to wet his lips every so often and Castiel wonders why this beautiful human being picked HIM to kiss at that bar that seemed years and years ago.

Dean opens his eyes minutely and watches Castiel for a second, a truly blissed-out expression encompassing all of his features. “Want you t’ fuck me now, Cas.” Castiel almost chokes on air because Dean’s voice is so soft, like he’s asking for the world.

He nods, his eyes down. “Mmkay. All right, Dean.” Castiel slides his body up above Dean’s, leaning over his face. Dean smiles lazily and Castiel kisses him, sloppily and fully. Dean wraps his legs around Castiel’s lower back and presses his ankles down, so that Castiel falls towards him. They both chuckle quietly, but they’re more focused on how their cocks are once again lined up. Dean ruts up a couple of times, until Castiel stills him with the press of fingertips on hips. He lifts his own hips until he can just barely run the tip of his cock along the length of Dean’s. He runs it up and down, trailing lines of precome in its wake.

He looks down to see Dean’s asshole fluttering in anticipation. He leans down to press a kiss against Dean’s inner thigh, and Dean inhales sharply.

Okay, but Castiel is such an asshole, so he gets up to get a condom and lube, but like, he’s an asshole who’s in favor of safe sex, sooooo.

When Castiel finally pushes in, he doesn’t go in all the way. Just the very tip, and he can tell that Dean is holding his breath.

“Breathe, baby. You gotta breathe for me, okay?” He doesn’t know how his voice is so calm, because all he can think of doing is slamming into Dean and making them both come. Dean exhales and Castiel can feel his whole body relaxing. He makes small, shallow thrusts into Dean, getting little breaths of ecstasy in return.

“Fuck, Cas,” Dean gasps. “Need more. Harder, Cas, _harder.”_ And who is Castiel to deny this beautiful man his wishes? So in one thrust, Castiel pushes into Dean, making them both cry out. Dean pulses his hips while Castiel stays still, wanting to give Dean time to adjust. Clearly, though, he doesn’t need any, so Castiel fucks into him.   

“GODFUCKING DAMNIT CAS I LOVE YOU,” Dean cries out, and Castiel is so surprised by his words that he jerks and _literally slips out of Dean’s ass and falls off of the bed._ Again.

The room is silent—nay, the whole entire fucking world is silent—and Castiel thinks he might have a bruise forming on his head (both of his heads????????? Maybe). Rubbing his scalp, Castiel slowly peeks up at the bed. Dean is laying exactly where he was before Castiel so gracefully flew to his death, except his eyes are squeezed shut like he’s trying to evaporate.

“Dean?”

“UM CAS WILL YOU PLEASE JUST FUCK ME NOW OKAY YES GOOD.” Castiel hurries up to the bed and to his previous position. He barely has time to breathe before Dean is taking Castiel’s cock and pushing it into his asshole, and then he’s flipping Castiel on his back. Dean rides Castiel’s cock like he’s releasing his inner cowboy, and Castiel wonders for a brief second if he has ever taken riding lessons. Dean’s ass is so far down on his cock that his buttcheeks are smacking against Cas’ hips. Dean’s own cock is bobbing up and down deliciously, and Castiel can’t help but wrap his fingers around it, pulling and twisting the red skin. Dean’s moaning is so loud that it is all Castiel can think about, besides the all-encompassing heat around his dick.

Dean leans forward and kisses Castiel hard, smooshing Castiel’s hand and his own cock between them. Dean bites his lip and tongue, and it’s so beautiful, and Castiel thinks he won’t ever be able to kiss anyone else. The angle isn’t as good this way, but Dean’s mouth more than makes up for it, and Castiel begins to moan along with Dean.

When Dean comes, Castiel makes sure to watch his face through all of it: the start, the climax, and then the pure relaxation.

When Castiel comes, he tells Dean he loves him too.

And like, it’s not even weird or embarrassing, because even though they haven’t even known each other for 48 hours, it’s like this thing where everything is pretty much okay, and they don’t have to worry about anything at the moment, and sometimes strangers fall in love, because love isn’t actually this thing that only happens after a certain amount of time or with certain people in certain circumstances with certain characteristics. Castiel and Dean love each other, even if it’s the kind of love that is a little different and a little odd.

And Castiel is so sleepy.

He’s about to fall asleep on top of Dean when Dean speaks.

“Cas.”

“'M sleepy.”

“Castiel.”

“What.”

“You need to get off of me.”

Castiel groans. “No. Why.”

“My beard is sticky.

“I’ll lick it for you, baby.”

He can practically feel Dean rolling his eyes. “That didn’t work the first time.”

“Can’t you deal with a sticky beard for like, a few hours? God, Dean, I thought you loved me.”

“Shut up. Asshole.”

“Love you too, you butt.”

**Author's Note:**

> should i apologize


End file.
